Wednesday, September 3, 2014

More about artist Ces Adorio. Ces and artist friend Bella each donated a gift of their art to blogger friends--who gave $25 or more to Red Cross for relief of Japanese who had suffered after the great Earthquake and Tsunami of 2011. They raised thousands of dollars. What an honor it is for me to have use of their art for illustrating my blog now and then. They are each on my sidebar "Blogroll"...

Drawing by CESPlease scroll down to Part I if you have not read that. Thank you

The following took place

three months before

Hump had a great fall

off that great wall.

TAKE (Part II of "Give and TAKE)

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Giuseppi, who laid that linoleum checkerboard floor for that rich guy. Ever since then, I've coveted that pig standing on the floor under the painting. It was a hard job, the squares had to be laid exactly "just so". Had to pick up the pig's feet one-by-one.

The guy--we called him "Earless Hump", remember?--couldn't hear a sound. Shaped like an egg, all dressed fit-to-kill, he played (of all things) the gol-danged fiddle, which sounded
H O R R I B L E S
--O GOD!
I don't believe he even knew. But I knew I wanted that hog.

I knew robbing him would be easy, he was so stuck on himself--in his lonely, noiseless world. That night the moonshine spilled over from the painting (large as a window!). I climbed right into his home through that painting--

Well, things happened pretty fast then (aren't you glad--grin!). A mouse on top of the picture frame spotted--and immediately fell in love with--a mouse on the floor. As the mice played, they scampered up his pant leg. He abruptly turned, caught me red-handed, pulled out a gun and fired.

Visitors who come by for concerts, make "sign" gestures with their hands and ALWAYS ask him about the man half in and half out of the painting--like a "remarque"--with a little blood-red ink on the frame.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Native of the Philippine Islands, Ces Adorio lives in the United States, and is my most favorite artist (she will tell you this is true!) Ces owns a Blog on which she has freely posted the results of her most unusual talents, drawing, painting and squiggling and writing.

The story begins, "Who ever heard of a violin-playing egg?" Well, I don't recall anyone ever declaring that eggs do NOT play violins.

Humpty Dumpty was born deaf (no ears!), yet his dream was to be a concert violinist, to bring sounds of heaven to listeners, to lift people from doldrums of everyday life to a higher level of enjoyment, appreciation, meaning.

Playing the violin looked easy. So Hump attended a symphony concert and sat in the front row by violin section and watched carefully. Then he bought a violin and bow. Hump (nickname) practiced all week what he'd seen, and it was good.

Thousands of people rode to his estate, and after hearing him "play", exclaimed he had technique and sound of Itzhak Perlman. He played always the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto--perfectly. Nobody needed lessons. HA!

One day, tired from rolling around the lawns, he sat on a wall to rest a bit. As history was being compiled, Hump fell off the wall, was being strewn about, broken into many pieces.

Investigating Detectives wondered at what they later found in his home--a violin bow, its hairs soaked with greasy soap--so Hump, in silence, could appear as if he were playing. But "No-ears" Hump was only making the motions. Nearby was his music center, a DVD playing LOUDLY the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto by soloist Itzhak Perlman--Forever after, audiences refused to believe that Hump had not been making the music, kept insisting that Hump (who faked it with a greasy bow and never played a note in his life) played violin far better than Itzhak could ever dream of playing.

--Steve E

NOTE: "TAKING" (Part 2 of Giving and Taking) will be posted in a couple days...please come back for it--you won't be sorry

"Why do night-lights shining like stars?Maybe...'cause they are!"--fiddlemn

June 10, 1935, a man named Bill waited for the other--his host--to return from a long day away.

It was hot.

Hoped Dr Bob's return wouldn't become a drunken scene.

It did not.

Earlier that morning in Akron Ohio, Dr Bob had his last final drink of alcohol, then went around town taking care of business.

As time--and years--passed, this began to be recognized as the birthday of Alcoholics Anonymous. So, we now "see" two men who--not long before, were helpless, hopeless alcoholics-- found that by helping each other, they could stay sober. One thing true then...and true today, the only way they could live productive and happylives, was to help another--others--by giving away the gift they'd received

They sought alcoholics ("Alkies") who had an honest desire to stay sober. More years, amazing growth, a God-Spirit-inspired book (Alcoholics Anonymous) brought me (and you readers) here--now.

God willing, in July 2015, approximately 80,000 people will descend on Atlanta, Georgia from all the world. AA is found in 170 of the nearly 200 independent countries around the globe. On the final day, between 100-150 of those countries will be honored and represented by recovering alcoholics, carrying the flag of their homeland. All across the stage they will proudly stand --and I will be there to take a selfie, with THAT background!! HA!

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Summer 1966 Dear *****Kurt was my "Sunday Morning" bartender. Sign, posted out front of Dusty's Red Barn in Naples Florida, read "LAST CHANCE for ALCOHOL until MIAMI". Yes...I stood in line with others who also had--on Saturday--miscalulated their liquor inventory. Kurt's body was adorned with muscles as a holiday tree with ornaments and lights. He WAS one muscle. In an earlier life he caught his wife night-after-night. He, high up on small swing--she, even higher, flying through the air. High-wire circus performers who retired to Naples.

Originally from Sweden, Kurt and his wife loved sailing, and partying so much that I figured about all Swedes did was sail, drink, and fly high under a tent.

Kurt and I became friends, we both drank a lot. However, when Kurt would stop for the day--or night--I'd keep drinking until, well...until somehow, chaos entered the room. In minutes, I fantasized hell into a bright, shining goal instead of a death-dread.Kurt owned a 36-foot wooden-hulled single masted sailboat, which I loved from afar. At his invitation to go sailing without wives for a week, I said "YESSSSS!!!"Reluctantly, of course--grin!

Preparations included 5 gallon gasoline for the small auxiliary motor, 12 cases of beer and 1½ cases Early Times Bourbon. It was a compromise. Kurt believed one case to be sufficient, I wanted two cases on board, ya never know. In my small "personal" case, I hid 3 quarts of vodka--to be on the safe side. I remember some water, lots of ice, and a case of Cola for Kurt. Also some food, about which I remember little.

(So many cases of beer--because if we should run out of water or ice, shrimpers at sea would trade for beer--boy, were they a rough, crude, bunch. Whoo!) Since it was I who clambered aboard the larger boats, made the exchanges, I recall my fears of indiscriminate bodily harm. Involving sharks, naturally--grin! I had never seen much sense in beer drinking. It is mostly water, I figured. In fact it was beer with which I watered geraniums. They were forever wilted. Always thirsty, I guess...One weekday morning at 10 AM we set out, a lone boat in Naples Bay, even more alone out in the Gulf of Mexico. My first real "sail" adventure about to begin.--steveroni

SPLAT!!!

Ces Adorio, Artist, Writer, Researcher, Landscaper

Humpty Dumpty Unknowingly Playing His Farewell Sonata One Hour Prior To Sitting On The Wall. 8"x10" archival ink on 11"x14" Bristol board

IN THE ENDonly three things matter:

How much you lived,

how gently you loved,

how gracefully you let go of

things not meant for you

--Buddha

About Me

Naples, Florida, United States

Naples, Florida, United States
This...so you know me a little, then either stay as a friend or leave the room quietly--grin! Steve E, Sober 41 years. Married to Anna, Born May 25, 1933, raised on farm near Cincinnati, Ohio. Living in Naples FL since 1964. My blog-goal is to write what I think, feel, observe, live, what I've learned and even more--UNLEARNED. I like to write poetry. Since I do not know how, I'm not bound by rules, traditions. Naturally I'll write about my recovery as an alcoholic/addict. Also my purpose is to spread some happiness, because that is what I AM...most of the time. HAPPY, JOYFUL, FREE and at PEACE! And that is my wish for YOU TOO!